This is what came to mind when I saw today's word, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." (Emphasis mine.)
But now as I sit here talking to Bill about our cat, I wonder if maybe I shouldn't talk about Atticus and his poor decisions.
He (the cat) had a bad day.
He started it out by coming into the bathroom while I was getting ready. He stuck his head in the trash can. I scolded him and he ran out of the room. Then I heard him in the hallway, choking. I went out to see what he had in his mouth and he ran downstairs. I followed, catching up to him in the living room. I grabbed his mouth and stuck my finger in (thank you first aid classes). I pulled out a band-aid wrapper. That cat can smell a band-aid wrapper and has a weird addiction to them.
When I got home from work this afternoon, I had time to eat dinner but then I had to leave for a Historic Preservation Commission meeting. Atticus desperately wanted outside while I was eating my dinner. I let him out, but I reminded him (as if he can speak English) that I had to leave soon and, unless he wanted to stay out until Bill got home, he had better come back when I called.
Guess who didn't come home when I called?
Bill got home only a short while later. He could hear Atticus mewing, but wasn't sure where it was coming from. Bill unloaded his car and called to Atticus. Again, Bill could hear Atticus mewing and eventually walked into the garage where the mewing was louder. Bill said he looked all around but couldn't find Atticus. That was when Bill happened to look up only to see Atticus peering down at him from the "attic" space in the rafters.
Bill spent the next forty-five minutes trying to coax the poor cat out of the rafters.
Hence the poor decisions Atticus made today.